A Sister's Promise (Promises)

by Lenfestey, Karen

  Joely glared at her through squinted eyes. “I’m serious, Kate. I don’t want you telling people.”

  “Why not?” Kate placed the books on an end table. “It’s a fact. Why would you keep it a secret?”

  “I don’t want people feeling sorry for me.” Joely lumbered toward the living room.

  “But your friends would want to know.”

  “It’s none of your business who I tell or don’t tell.”

  Kate realized Joely would kill her if she knew she had told Aunt Suzy. For some reason she thought Aunt Suzy might show some concern and reach out to Joely. But their former guardian’s total lack of compassion was probably one reason Joely had been determined to be a great mom to her own children. “So, I’m assuming no one has been over to visit?”

  Joely walked over to her La-Z-Boy and slowly lowered herself down. She placed a heating pad over her shoulder. “And I definitely don’t need anyone checking in on me.” She closed her eyes.

  “Yes you do.” Kate yanked up the cheap plastic blinds with a clatter. She had hoped Joely would be in a better place now that she had the proper diagnosis and medication. Kate needed her to be better. “Sitting here in the dark doesn’t help.”

  Joely blocked the light with her hand. “Nothing will help.”

  Kate reminded herself that this wasn’t about what she herself needed. If Joely continued isolating herself, she was going to sink even deeper into what appeared to be a black sea of depression. Joely thrived off of the energy of other people. Even though she was single, she always had someone with whom to go out to dinner or play cards. In fact, her circle of friends was so large that Joely once joked that she knew three different women named Lori and two named Abina.

  On the wall behind Joely was another window with a view of the orangey-pink sun over the water. At least it looked like it. It was actually one of Joely’s three-dimensional trompe l’oeil paintings. Kate always said it looked like a sunset, but her sister had insisted it was daybreak.

  Kate sat down. “Maybe you’d feel better if you talked to your friends.”

  “I don’t want my friends to know. They will treat me differently and I just can’t handle that.”

  Kate stopped arguing, but contemplated calling some of Joely’s girlfriends behind her back.

  Seeing Joely so pale and worn-out reminded Kate of the first winter after Dad died when Joely got the stomach flu. Kate nursed her as best she knew how, putting wet washcloths on her forehead, giving her an empty mop bucket for when she felt nauseated and letting her watch whatever she wanted on TV. But she remembered feeling helpless to ease her sister’s suffering—just as she did now.

  Twirling a few strands of hair, Kate looked down as Herman the hamster crawled through her legs. She shook her head, disagreeing with Joely that it was cruel to leave him in his cage. “How are you feeling?”

  “Horrible. I’m too young to feel like this!” Joely hit the arm of the chair with her fist, then winced.

  Kate went into problem-solving mode. “Did you take your medication?”

  “It’s not working.”

  “Let’s call the doctor and tell him you need something stronger.”

  Joely looked down. “It’s the weekend. He won’t be in.”

  Kate left a message with the answering service, which the doctor returned within minutes, advising her what Joely could take to ease her “discomfort”.

  When Kate went into Joely’s bedroom, her knee bumped into the bed. The room came equipped with one of those ridiculous Murphy beds that folded up into the wall. Joely probably could have qualified for one of those low down-payment mortgages, but she told Kate once that she wanted to wait until she got married to buy a house.

  Kate crawled over the unmade sheets and jerked open the blinds. The light revealed another one of Joely’s trompe l’oeil paintings. This one looked like real French doors opening into a private garden where red roses ascended white trellises, giving the illusion of wide-open spaces. Kate would love for Joely to paint something like that in her master bedroom when she was feeling better. If she ever felt better.

  Pushing the metal bed frame into its vertical resting place, Kate saw hamster feces on the carpet. Yuck! Kate picked them up with a tissue. After she washed her hands, she returned and admired one of her favorite pictures on Joely’s dresser: she and Joely roller-skating for the first time. Their hair (Kate’s blond and Joely’s brunette) was up in matching pigtails. At the time Joely was still shorter than Kate and they hadn’t even a hint that their circumstances would soon drastically change. Both of them were laughing, bent stiffly at the waist, clinging to each other as they tried not to fall down. It wasn’t quite clear who was helping whom.

  Behind the frame Kate saw some amber-colored prescription bottles. She brought Joely the recommended pills then visited the kitchen. She handed her a red ceramic cup filled with water.

  Before Joely could take a drink, the glass slipped through her fingers and hit the coffee table edge, breaking into jagged triangles. “Shit!”

  Kate bent over. “Don’t move. I’ll pick up the pieces.”

  “That was Fiesta ware.”

  Cringing, Kate realized the cup had sentimental as well as monetary value. “What happened?” She’d been sure Joely had a grip on the glass before she let go.

  “All of a sudden I felt a jolt of pain in my hand.”

  Kate swept the floor and brought Joely another glass. She watched as Joely raised it to her mouth with both hands, just like a child.

  Unsure if it was a good time to mention it, Kate said, “I’ve been e-mailing a doctor out west. He’s doing some clinical trials on new lupus medications. I thought you might want to go meet him.”

  “What would it matter?”

  Kate reminded herself to hold onto her patience.

  Joely stared at the wall. “I should’ve married Lucas.”

  “Lucas? What are you talking about? You had nothing in common.”

  “He wanted kids. Enough for his own basketball team.”

  Kate didn’t respond. Lucas had been Joely’s high school boyfriend. He thought it was funny to take Joely to Hooters before the Homecoming dance and his motto had been “It’s easier to get forgiveness than permission.” Joely claimed that he had a tender side that he kept hidden. Kate had been very outspoken about their incompatibility, confident Joely could find someone more suitable. And in college they both thought she had, an outgoing accounting major, named Jake. But they were wrong.

  Kate looked around the room. When they were roommates in college, Kate cleaned more compulsively than her sister, but Joely never completely gave up like this. “Do you want me to tidy things up?” She sprung into motion, picking up Joely’s glass and other dishes.

  “No, Mom.” Joely waved her hand dismissively, then grimaced. “Let’s talk about when you are going to put your mothering skills to better use.”

  Kate’s heart accelerated as she walked toward the kitchen.

  Joely’s voice suddenly softened. “Kate, you’re going to be such a good mom.”

  Kate put the dishes into the sink, then returned to the living room. “Well, I don’t know about that.”

  “You’re not backing out on me, are you?”

  Instead of answering, Kate said, “I’m glad you brought this up because what you asked me isn’t really fair.”

  “Asking you to be happy isn’t fair?”

  Kate put her hand on her hip. “Who are you to decide that having a baby would make me happy?”

  “Well, I’ve waited long enough for you to figure it out.”

  “Joely, it’s just not that simple.”

  “Sure it is. You told me you would have a kid. You and Mitch would be great parents. Therefore, you should have a kid.”

  Hearing Mitch’s name made her squirm. She wasn’t used to keeping secrets from him.

  Obviously becoming an aunt meant more to her than she had realized. She had been secretly counting on that opportunity to be i
nvolved in a child’s life over the long run. But now that motherhood was her only option, she felt ambivalent. “It’s a big decision, Joely. Give me some time to figure things out.” She turned toward the kitchen.

  “The problem is there isn’t time.”

  # # #

  Late Sunday morning, still in her pajamas, Joely watched a kitchen remodel on TV. Usually she would have critiqued their color palette or their workmanship, but she remained silent.

  “When do you think you’ll feel like going back to work?” Kate asked during a commercial break.

  Unlike Kate, Joely had been brave enough to pursue a career with an uncertain future. When Joely finished her art degree, she waited tables for nearly a year until an interior designer saw the leopard she had painted on a friend’s car and hired her. Ever since then, she spent her days painting murals—vineyards in dining rooms and Neverland scenes in nurseries—that kind of stuff. It was her dream job.

  “I have no idea.” Joely watched her hamster crawl under the couch. “I don’t know how people do it when they retire. It’s odd not having a reason to get out of bed in the morning.”

  “That’s why I’m sure you’ll be happier once you’re painting again.” When Kate thought about it, it wasn’t just the activity, but the people that made her own job enjoyable. If she didn’t work, she would miss Trish and Rhonda. . . and every one of her students from Susan Abel to Kevin Zwik. Joely, however, didn’t see the same people repeatedly except for Kelly, the decorator she worked for. Every job meant meeting new clients and she loved that.

  They watched two more decorating shows before Joely spoke again. “I like your necklace.”

  Kate fondled the red stone on the chain around her neck. “You know where I got this, don’t you?”

  “No,” Joely answered, which Kate couldn’t believe since it was such an awesome story.

  “Don’t you remember when Mom and Dad took us to a mine? We sifted through buckets of dirt looking for gems. I probably wasn’t older than six and you must’ve been about three. I thought maybe I’d find gold and we’d be rich, but mostly I found obsidian and green-colored hiddenite. Just as you were growing restless and decided it would be more fun to chase ducks in a nearby pond, I actually found a dust-covered red stone. The owner of the mine said it was a real garnet. So we took it to a jeweler and had it cut, polished and made into this necklace,” Kate finished her monologue, twirling the stone in her right hand. “How could you not remember that?”

  Joely shrugged. Of all the things she had going for her, a good memory was not one of them. When she took high school chemistry, she hung note cards all over their bedroom to help her learn the elements. By the day of the test, Kate had unintentionally memorized even the not-so-obvious ones—like potassium is represented with a K and Pb is the symbol for lead. Somehow Joely still only scored a C-.

  Joely nodded toward the stone. “It’s very pretty.”

  “That’s what you thought then, too. When you saw it, you said you wanted one and started to cry.”

  “I did not.”

  “Yes you did.”

  Joely picked up a paperback book near her and started flipping through it. “A garnet is perfect for you.” Her finger pointed at the text. “It says here it’s associated with creativity and devotion to others.”

  Kate silently berated herself for not trying to find a gem for Joely. Back then I was so self-centered, she thought. I’d taken pleasure in having something my little sister didn’t have. Once again I can have something Joely can’t, only this time I don’t want it.

  Kate feared Joely’s melancholy mood was starting to wear off onto her. Even though it was noon, they hadn’t even eaten breakfast. Kate suspected if she weren’t there, Joely might not bother to eat all day. “How about I make us some waffles?”

  “Actually, I think I feel like going out.”

  Kate smiled. Definite progress! Although you’d never guess it by looking at them, they both loved going out to eat.

  Kate grabbed her overnight bag and walked into the bathroom so she could brush her teeth. Just as she was about to turn on the faucet, the phone rang. And rang. And rang. Then Joely’s cheerful “I’m not here right now” message came on the answering machine. Kate listened through the door just in case it was Mitch calling for her. But it was another man’s voice: “Hi, Joely. It’s me, Drew. Haven’t seen you in a while. Where are you? Give me a call and I’ll treat you to your favorite, a venti caramel macchiato.”

  Kate peeked into the living room to see why Joely hadn’t picked up the phone. Her sister sat in her recliner, staring blankly at the wall. Kate’s heart sank.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Later that afternoon Kate marched into her house, anger bubbling inside her. She tossed her bag onto the living room couch and turned down the volume on the Dave Matthews Band. Her bad mood had escalated when a detour took her past a horse farm, reminding her of when she was fourteen and had longed for a horse.

  Instead of sending Kate to horseback riding camp like her friends’ moms, Aunt Suzy arranged for her to spend the summer cleaning stables. Aunt Suzy expected her to walk the three miles to the farm, but sometimes Kate borrowed her cousin Jonathan’s bike and Walkman to make the trip more tolerable. He didn’t even notice since Aunt Suzy chauffeured him to tennis lessons and baseball games in her air-conditioned VW bug. Family or not, Kate hated them both. Now Kate stood in front of Mitch. “Can you believe Aunt Suzy hasn’t so much as called Joely to see how she’s doing?”

  Mitch looked up from tinkering with a broken watch and smiled at her. He was experienced enough with Kate’s Aunt Suzy rants to offer support mostly with his sympathetic brown eyes.

  “My sister is going through chemo! She has an incurable disease! You would think that the woman who raised her would rush to her side.”

  “There’s no sense in getting all worked up about it, Honey.”

  Kate reached for the phone. “That’s it. I am going to give her a piece of my mind.”

  “Don’t be crazy. You know you’ll never tell her how you feel.”

  “Yes I will. I’m ready to finally lay it on the line.”

  Kate’s throat tightened as she considered standing up to the woman who begrudgingly provided her shelter. From the outside Aunt Suzy looked like such a wonderful person, taking on her sister’s two kids. Everyone thought she was a saint, but Kate and Joely knew the truth. Aunt Suzy was such a good actress, though; sometimes Kate thought if it weren’t for Joely, she would start to doubt her own recollections. Although her aunt didn’t technically abuse them or anything, she managed to make them feel unwelcome. She would take them to Jonathan’s guitar lessons, but never let them participate. Whenever chocolate-chip cookies went missing from the cookie jar, she spanked them, even though they explained that Jonathan had eaten them. In Aunt Suzy’s eyes, Jonathan could do no wrong while Kate and Joely caused her marriage to crumble.

  Kate looked up the number in her address book. Ring. Boy, was she mad. Ring. She had a lot she wanted to say to her. Ring.

  “Hello?”

  Kate hung up. She cursed and threw down the phone. Then it rang. She looked at the caller I.D. Her eyes widened. “She *69ed me.”

  “Are you going to answer it?” Mitch asked.

  She took a few deep breaths. Then she picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Did you just call and hang-up?” Aunt Suzy scolded.

  “No. I mean, we must have gotten cut-off,” Kate explained, sounding apologetic.

  “Oh, well. . . Kate, how are you?” Aunt Suzy asked, with the sticky sweetness of corn syrup. “We haven’t talked in so long.”

  Yes we have, Kate thought. I just called you last week and told you your niece is sick. Don’t you remember? “I’m fine. I wanted to update you on how Joely’s doing.” After Aunt Suzy faked appropriate concern for a while, Kate hung up. Fortunately, Mitch didn’t say anything about her wimping-out. He wasn’t much of one for confrontation, either. That was part of w
hat made their marriage work.

  # # #

  Unable to sleep that night, Kate lay in bed listening to the steady chirp-chirp of crickets, thinking about the day her childhood ended. On that of all days, she was mad at her sister because Joely had been playing with Kate’s Fashion Plates kit without asking. (Even though Kate would’ve said no if she had asked.) Just before Dad walked them over to Mrs. Pilo’s, Kate had pulled the box out of her closet and noticed her favorite plaid skirt pattern and some of the colored pencils were missing. Joely was always the culprit when one of Kate’s favorite toys disappeared or broke and she was just about to accuse her sister when their dad told them it was time to go.

  Mrs. Pilo, an elderly neighbor, often looked after Kate and Joely when their dad needed to run errands and their mom needed to rest. Kate remembered her house always smelled sweet as if she had just baked a lemon meringue pie.

  That day Mrs. Pilo taught Kate how to play dominoes at an oak table marred with scratches and nicks. Joely sat next to them painting a butterfly with watercolors. It was one of those blissful, sunny afternoons. Then the doorbell rang.

  Mrs. Pilo went to open it. Kate heard someone mumble. Mrs. Pilo gasped. Kate peered around the corner to see a man in a blue-gray police uniform in the foyer. Mrs. Pilo’s hand covered her mouth and her whole arm trembled. A few minutes passed before she showed the officer into the kitchen. That was when he told Kate and Joely about the car accident. Their dad was on his way home from the grocery store when a semi barreled through a red light and smashed his car.

  Kate and Joely both cried that day, but for different reasons. At the age of ten, Kate was just about to begin the tumultuous tug-of-war between little girl and independent adolescent. Even so, she could not imagine a life that did not include the man who trimmed the crusts off her peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and let her help steer while he cut the grass with his John Deere lawn tractor.

  As the older sister, she usually put on a tough face, hiding her emotions, running to her bedroom and closing the door whenever she needed to break down. For Joely, seeing Kate cry was like pouring alcohol on a fire. She wailed and sobbed for so long she hyperventilated. In that moment, in Mrs. Pilo’s lemon-scented kitchen, Joely transformed from Kate’s competition to her confidante, from her rival to her responsibility.